


Masquerade

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell the truth.” (Somehow, an Oscar Wilde quote seems pretentious and yet appropriate for summarizing a smutty one-shot.) Academy-era, obviously not canon.





	Masquerade

_I had an idea about the project you’re working on._ No, he only heard bits and pieces of her conversation with Agent Weaver. What if he didn’t know enough to substantially contribute? What if she was angry that he eavesdropped?

 _Do you miss home too?_ No, that made them both seem babyish, something he was sure she was as keen to avoid as he was.

 _I’ve downloaded the latest Doctor Who, if you wanted to watch with me._ No, just because she was British and crazy smart didn’t mean she was necessarily a nerd like him.

 _I wasn’t sure about the homework – did you want to compare answers?_ No, what if she thought he was trying to cheat off her? Or was asking for a tutor? The goal was to capture her interest, not get her to pity him or wonder how he got recruited into the Academy in the first place.

Fitz sighed, looking over his list of potential conversational openers. He had crossed out each in turn and was no better off than when he began brainstorming. He had first heard of Jemma Simmons months ago at the new cadet orientation, and they’d been chem lab partners since the start of the new term three weeks ago, and he still hadn’t managed to say anything to her besides _hi_ and _pass the gloves_. At this rate, he might manage to make friends with her in seven and a half years. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then crumpled up the paper and tossed it to the corner of his desk. 

The door opened as his roommate returned. Fitz turned in surprise to look at him, then at the clock. Kevin’s theoretical physics class must have gotten out – 

“Shit!” Fitz said when the time on the clock registered. He stood so quickly, he nearly knocked his chair over. He grabbed his chem lab notebook and goggles and raced out the door. Showing up late was _not_ going to help his Impress Jemma Simmons plan.

**

Jemma glanced at the clock, blowing a strand of hair off her forehead in frustration. There was no time to spare in the lab this week, so she had to start as soon as possible, even if Fitz wasn’t there yet. So she was essentially doing two people’s work at the moment and she did _not_ have four hands.

Fitz might be the smartest guy at the Academy, but he was apparently also the rudest or most absent-minded. 

Of course, she only knew how smart he was from other people’s stories, since he’d never fully demonstrated it around her. Certainly, he held his own in lab (when he showed up), but he managed to do it without ever having a conversation with her. 

That was perhaps the most annoying part of him of all. 

Just then, he burst into the room, disturbing several other lab groups. He bustled his way to the back of the room, pulling on his goggles. She barely managed not to glare at him.

“Sorry,” he gasped out, trying to catch his breath. Judging by that and the sheen of sweat, he must have run all the way there.

Jemma added 1 to the mental tally of words he spoke to her. But he did seem genuinely apologetic, and clearly, he had made an effort to minimize his tardiness. Jemma decided to be forgiving, or at least not to scold him. Instead, she handed him the graduated cylinder needed for the next step of the lab.

“Twenty-five mils,” she requested, nodding at the bottle of the solution in question. 

He nodded, taking it from her and immediately moved to fill it. 

The rest of the lab went much smoother, with Jemma and Fitz falling into the very productive groove they had started to develop. She supposed speaking wasn’t necessary as long as they got the job done but…well, she kind of thought they would get on and it hurt her feelings a bit that he seemed to have no interest in her at all. 

At the end of the period, while Fitz was scrubbing out all the glassware (and Jemma felt no guilt about that at all), she recorded the last measurements and observations in her notebook. Just then, Sally at the lab bench opposite theirs turned to face them.

“Simmons,” she asked, “are you going to the masquerade party this weekend?”

Jemma made a face at the very thought. A crowded room of people she found uninteresting on a good day, all wearing masks so she couldn’t even know who to avoid, did not really sound fun to her. Besides, she had work to do. When she said as much, Sally just rolled her eyes. 

“Fitz, what about you?”

He shook his head quickly, seeming terrified by the very idea. 

“You two deserve each other,” Sally stated, turning away and ignoring them again.

Jemma didn’t quite know how to take that comment, and she was too nervous to look at Fitz to see what he thought of it.

**

Fitz trudged into his dorm room, dropping his materials on the floor and collapsing onto the bed with a groan.

“So, which one did you go with?” Kevin asked.

Confused by the question, Fitz furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

At the sound of paper fluttering, Fitz turned to look. Kevin was at his desk, a coding program open on his computer. He wasn’t even looking at Fitz, but he was holding up a now-uncrumpled sheet that he must have taken from Fitz’s desk.

With sudden renewed energy, Fitz darted off his bed and grabbed the paper. 

“Stay out of my things,” he grumbled, folding it up and putting it in his pocket as he sat back down on his bed. 

“You’re overthinking things.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Look, Simmons – it’s Simmons, right? – she’s hot, I get it. But you won’t get her in the sack by treating it like – ”

“I’m not trying to get her in the _sack_ ,” Fitz said, offended and a small part of him recognizing that he was maybe protesting too much. She _was_ pretty, of course, but... 

“Aren’t you?”

“No! I just – I want to be friends.”

“Well, then you’re _really_ overthinking it.” 

Fitz sighed, pulling at the fraying cuff of his jeans. “I’m just not…good at things like this.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Talking to people. To – girls.”

“Hmm,” Kevin hummed thoughtfully. Then he snapped his fingers. “You need practice, something with less pressure.”

“Like what?”

“The masquerade this weekend. They’re selling masks _and_ voice changers. No one will know who you are, so you can be anyone you want to be.”

Despite the urge to immediately decline, Fitz actually considered it. Kevin was right – he could benefit from the opportunity. If he could manage to just talk to one or two people and realize that the earth wouldn’t swallow him whole if he tried to make awkward small talk…well, it was worth a try.

**

_How was chem lab this week? Your partner talk to you yet?_

Jemma glanced at her computer screen when it pinged. Since it was Friday, she was allowing herself a bit of a break and messaging while organizing her notes from the week. Her cousin was nearly seven months pregnant and so often had trouble sleeping. Chatting with her when she was up was the least Jemma could do, plus it allowed her to get all the gossip about everyone back home.

But that meant they eventually would move onto gossip about Jemma. After an ill-advised comment (well, he _did_ have blue eyes, it was only a fact), Ellie had become convinced Jemma was harboring a secret crush on Fitz. Her response that Fitz never spoke to her so she didn’t know a thing about him didn’t help; instead, Ellie merely decided the crush was mutual.

Jemma had no clue where she got such ideas. 

_Yes_ , Jemma typed. _This week he said ‘sorry’ because he was late._

_Ooh sexy!_

_ELLIE WE DO NOT LIKE EACH OTHER_

_Methinks she doth protest too much._

_How can I manage to convince you otherwise?_

_Ummm…mention ONE other guy there? Ever?_

Jemma sighed. _There is no one here worth talking to._

_No one said you had to talk to them ;) ;) ;) C==3_

_You’re incorrigible._

_You need to get a little action. And if Chem Boy won’t oblige, you’ll just have to look elsewhere._

_Not everyone needs a man, you know. I’m quite happy being single. I’m not even 20 yet._

_I’m not saying get married. I’m saying go on a date! Make out with some guy at a party! Heck, it might even make Chem Boy jealous._

An unbidden, absolutely ludicrous mental image of Fitz punching some guy for flirting with her and then pulling her into an embrace flashed into Jemma’s mind. She didn’t even _want_ something like that. She really ought to stop reading trashy romance novels with covers featuring men in kilts. She had never read those _before_ starting at the Academy, so she couldn’t explain why they suddenly appealed to her now.

Jemma shook her head quickly. Focusing on her computer again, she leaned forward to type. 

_If I go the masquerade ball tonight, will you stop bothering me about Fitz?_

_For a little while!_

Honestly, it was a good enough deal. And maybe she really would get the chance to flirt and dance. It’d all be…completely harmless fun. And she’d get Ellie off her back about Fitz.

**

The night was not going great so far, if Fitz were being honest. The mask he bought was awesome – sort of a steampunk gas mask design – and he had fun testing out the voice changer strapped to his throat over his larynx. He was pretty sure he could improve the design, though, and his fingers were itching to take it off and dig into its parts.

But he hadn’t worked the nerve up to talk to any girls yet. Apparently, being in disguise wasn’t enough to get rid of his shyness. 

He had spotted one he _wanted_ to talk to, though. She was wearing a form-fitting top and a short, loose skirt. She had brown hair that flowed down her back in wavy curls, and pale, freckled skin that contrasted nicely with the shocking black, silver and purple colors of her mask. It covered her whole face, like his did, but it was more feminine, with jewels and glittery curlicues and a butterfly wing design. She was beautiful and mysterious and Fitz couldn’t stop staring.

He convinced himself, though, that it was just due to her general appearance. She was close enough to Simmons that he could maybe pretend it was her, even though he knew she wasn’t there. It might just work for practice purposes.

Fitz steeled himself and looked again in the direction of the mystery woman, only to discover she wasn’t there anymore. He stood straighter, starting to scan the room for her, when a mechanical-sounding voice next to him spoke.

“Would you like to dance?”

His head jerked to stare at the – it was her. He blinked for a moment, speechless, until finally he broke through the terror and paralysis that had been gripping him all night. All term, really.

“Absolutely,” he whispered, thankful for the voice changer that masked the wobble of nerves. He imagined if he had spoken with his regular voice, it would have come out sounding like he was still going through puberty.

She skimmed a hand down his arm until their fingers linked, then turned away to lead him to the dance floor. When she faced him again, she stepped incredibly close, one hand resting high on his chest and the other hooked at his elbow. He wrapped his own arms around her, letting the fingers of one hand hint at the swell of her bum. It was probably the most daringly intimate he’d ever been with a stranger, but he supposed that was kind of the point. Thankfully everyone around them seemed to adhere to the ‘sway side to side’ method of slow-dancing, so he wasn’t going to be too out of his depth there.

“I’d ask you your name, but that’d be cheating,” he began. 

She nodded in a way that he could tell she was giving him a teasing smile beneath the mask.

“Have you figured anyone out yet?”

She shook her head, making him happy he wasn’t the only one to be failing so miserably. The cadet who figured out the most people by the end of the night would be excused from the espionage midterm that semester, while the rest of them would be forced to sit it. Fitz knew he was horrible at this aspect of S.H.I.E.L.D. employment and so wouldn’t get out of it, and he suspected that Simmons would think being denied the opportunity for an examination would be a horrible prize.

He smirked at the thought, then inhaled deeply to clear his mind of thoughts of her. He didn’t want to think about Simmons at the moment. He wanted to think about the woman who just, somehow, stepped even closer. She slid the hand on his chest up to his neck. Her fingers were cold where they pressed into his skin.

“I noticed you staring at me,” she said. “I thought maybe you recognized me.”

“I can’t just stare because you’re gorgeous?” Fitz asked, swallowing thickly once he said it. The question was far more brazen than he realized he was capable of. 

He surprised himself even more by starting to skate his fingers up and down her back, letting them caress along the bumps of her spine before bringing them down to trace lightly over her arse, lower and lower every time.

“I’ll allow it,” she replied, moving her other arm until she was hugging them both around his neck. Her fingers started to play with the curls at the back of his neck, and Fitz couldn’t stop the shuddering exhalation that produced. “I like your mask,” she continued. “Are you an engineer? Or are you more interested in toxic chemicals?”

Fitz smiled behind his mask. “Nice try,” was his only reply, but it made her giggle.

They spent the next hour together, chatting at a table tucked in a far corner of the room, trying-but-not-really to get the other one to slip up and reveal their identity. Although he was feeling more comfortable about the whole thing, he was still hesitant about speaking too much, which worked in his favor. She wasn’t the best liar S.H.I.E.L.D. ever produced, so he had figured out she was a first or maybe second year student, that she loathed Agent Cruz who taught the intro class to all cadets, and that Peggy Carter was her idol. He also knew that she preferred beer to hard liquor, that her hands were always freezing, and that she didn’t really know how to dance either.

That didn’t stop them from going out onto the floor twice more, each time resulting in an even closer embrace. 

She was close enough he could hear her breathing beneath her mask just then. But her next words stole his breath away.

“I really want to make out with you,” she murmured. “But I also kind of like not knowing who you are.”

Fitz was speechless for a good minute. He tightened his arms around her, so she wouldn’t take his silence the wrong way. He fought for a response. Honestly, he had been feeling more and more turned on all night, to the point where it felt like his skin was humming. And…just supposing for a second that Kevin was onto something…if he couldn’t even _talk_ to someone he was interested in, how would he ever feel comfortable _kissing_ her? But here, with the romantic atmosphere and the mystery and – he could maybe do it. And it would be sort of surreal, like some dream where he could be the kind of guy that – 

“Luminescence research is done in this building,” he pointed out. “The testing rooms get completely dark. We could take off our masks and – ”

“Not see anything,” she concluded. “Brilliant.”

“We could leave the voice changers – ”

“On to disguise ourselves, yes, absolutely.” 

He couldn’t even pretend to be suave about the whole thing. Stepping away from her, he grabbed her hand and led her off the dance floor towards the door. She stayed close behind him, her free hand resting on his back almost pushing him to move faster.

**

The room was small, and there was no real surface to sit or lie on. She supposed she should count her blessings and just be grateful it was unlocked. She looked around once to get her bearings before closing the door. Everything plunged into darkness, and she gasped at the lack of visual sensory input. It made everything else – his rough breathing, the feel of his hand where they still held each other’s, the plastic smell of her mask – seem so much _more_. She wondered if that’d be true for the taste of his mouth too. She couldn’t wait to find out, after so much teasing.

“Can you see me?” she asked breathlessly, her disguised voice loud in the small room.

“No, not at all. How many fingers am I holding up?”

She laughed. “I have no idea,” she replied, even as she tore the mask off her face. It made a noise when it hit the ground, quickly followed by the sound of his own striking the floor. 

Fumbling slightly, he placed his other hand on their clasped ones, then slid it up her arm to her shoulder. He then pushed her back against the door, forcing a sharp breath of anticipation from her. He moved his hand up to her face, his fingers catching on her nose and ear, cheek and eyelid, making her laugh. Their mouths connected, a bit off until they slotted into place. She meeped at the contact before sighing and deepening the connection. He was clean-shaven and indeed tasted good, and the slide of his mouth over hers filled her senses with an intoxicating bliss that only aroused her further.

He dropped her hand and reached out for her, _accidentally_ cupping her breast before lowering it to grip at her waist. She breathed harshly into his mouth for a moment, lifting her own now-free hand to the back of his head. She pulled him closer, even as she buried her fingers in the curls that had so fascinated her as they danced. Honestly, his hair, height and build all reminded her a bit of Fitz. That realization just turned her on even more, suggesting that Ellie was more perceptive than Jemma wanted to give her credit for. Rather than think of that too much, however, Jemma just moaned and sucked on the mystery man’s tongue. 

The action made him react in a way that might have been predictable, if Jemma had more experience in this kind of thing. As it was, however, the involuntary thrust of his hips that pressed his erection into her stomach was rather surprising. She broke the kiss with a gasp, looking down even though she couldn’t see anything.

“Sorry,” he said, backing away. “Sorry, I just – ”

“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted. “It’s actually quite fascinating.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the sexiest, most sophisticated response she could have had, but it was the truth. Jemma had never given someone an erection before, at least not to her knowledge. She dropped a hand down, using the lines of his body to guide her, until she was cupping it through his trousers. He groaned, bending forward to rest his head on her shoulder. She listened to his breathing get more unsteady as she slid her hand up and down along the shaft. When she gave him a small squeeze, he moved quickly, raising his head to capture her in another, hotter, messier kiss, and lifting his hand back up to fondle her breast even as he pushed himself harder into her hand. 

Without giving herself time to think about it, Jemma put her hands on his shoulders and forced him away. She sensed him gearing up to apologize again, so she interrupted so he knew why she had really stopped him.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes. Yes, I do. Not that I thought – ”

“Can you put it on in the dark?”

“I think so.”

Jemma took a deep breath and let it out. “Do it.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

Since Jemma could feel him moving, then could hear the sound of his wallet opening and his zip lowering, she wasn’t too worried about the hesitant way he asked the question.

“Yes. Do you want to?”

“Fuck yes,” he said, making her laugh with the way it sounded through the voice changer. “It’s just…I never have.”

“With a stranger?”

“With anyone,” he said. She could almost hear the cringe of embarrassment, which honestly just made her more certain.

“I never have, either,” she confessed, even as she hiked up her skirt and pushed down her knickers. She kicked them off, her foot making brief contact with the discarded masks. 

“Oh.” He paused. “Are you sure you want to?” he asked again. 

She shook her head dismissively, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I’m not – waiting to give myself to The One,” she tried to explain. “I just…haven’t yet.”

“Oh. OK.”

“OK?”

“Yeah.”

He moved closer then, and Jemma sighed at the sensation of his body against hers. They were chest to chest and crotch to crotch. She could feel the flaps of his trousers around his knees, so she reached down, pulling up at her skirt to get it out of the way. They both moaned as they came into better contact. Even covered in latex, the feel of his erection rubbing over her mound was the most astonishing thing she’d ever experienced. 

She widened her legs to give him a hint, and he took it. He crouched slightly, and soon Jemma felt the head of his penis nudging against her folds even as two of his outstretched fingers searched for her entrance.

“Yes, there,” Jemma instructed when he touched just the right spot.

“Ready?”

“Now,” Jemma confirmed. “ _Now._ ” 

He pushed into her slowly but firmly. Jemma wrapped her arms tightly around him, unable to breathe as he filled her. They didn’t move for a long moment, and then Jemma let out an intense, raw groan. Her fingers hooked and she dragged her nails down his back. 

He took that as permission to move and hoisted her up, supporting her weight between the door and his own body. Given how lean he was, Jemma was rather surprised by his strength, but she chalked it up to adrenaline and chose to enjoy rather than question it. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist instead of just letting them hang down. The shift in position only proved that was the right move to make, and they both shivered in pleasure. 

His hips moved faster, and with the added factor of gravity, seemed to enter deeper into her with every pump. Jemma grunted each time, at too awkward an angle to kiss him properly, so she just wrapped her arms around his head and gasped into his hair, pushing his face down between her breasts. For a brief, brief moment, she actually allowed herself to imagine it was Fitz, and then she forced the thought away, wanting to savor the experience for what it was rather than ruin it by thinking about someone else. 

Leaving one arm hooked under her arse, he moved the other to squeeze at her breast again. She moaned, letting him have his way for a moment or two before wrapping her hand around his wrist and pushing his hand down to where their bodies joined. She let him go then, tracing her fingers along the back of his hand until she could demonstrate just how to massage the most sensitive parts of her. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he gasped out, even as he rubbed at her just like she showed him.

Between the angle of penetration and the pressure on her clit, she knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

“I’m going to come,” she told him, choking the words out. 

“Oh God, really?” 

He punctuated the question with faster, more forceful thrusts. Jemma nodded, whimpering and unable to speak. He widened his stance and tightened his embrace, and it was almost enough. Jemma shouted as her orgasm neared. He stumbled slightly, his rhythm breaking.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Jemma chanted. 

He didn’t, catching himself and pounding into her with the same fantastic pace and depth for three or four more beats. Just as she finally fell off the edge of her climax, she felt him freeze, then jerk with his own release. 

For the next minute or two, they both leaned against each other, struggling to catch their breaths. Eventually, Jemma unlocked her legs and lowered to the ground. She wobbled for balance, even as he reached down to hold the condom in place while he pulled out of her. She almost wanted to cry at the lack of him, so she just drew him into a hug instead.

“No wonder people like doing that,” he observed. 

Jemma laughed, nodding. “You’ve really never done that before?”

“I’ve never even kissed someone,” he replied.

She raised her eyebrows in shock. “You’re a natural.”

He kissed her temple a couple of times, then swallowed. “I feel like I really should ask for your name now. Or your phone number.”

Jemma hesitated, almost tempted to give it to him. “No,” she finally said, shaking her head. “No, let’s just leave it like this. It was amazing, but I – ”

“It’s OK. I understand.”

Jemma sighed, pushing him away and starting to feel like it was time to leave. “Besides, I think there’s someone else I need to figure out.” 

He was silent for a moment. “Me too, actually.”

Jemma peered as hard as she could, trying to see even a little bit of him. No luck.

“How are we going to end this?” he asked. “I will need to see to…clean everything up properly.”

Jemma reached out, making contact with his chest. He caught her hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing it. 

“Turn around,” she suggested, “and promise to keep your eyes closed. I’ll leave first. There’s a women’s room next door I can go…freshen up in. I’ll stay there until you leave. Knock on the door when you pass.”

After a moment, he agreed, then kissed her hand once more before dropping it as he turned. She crouched, feeling around on the floor until she made contact with the masks. Touching them both, she identified hers and stood again. 

“Sorry that you’ll have to take the exam,” he joked as a way to lighten the tension.

“I like exams,” she replied, barely noticing the surprised, inquiring sound he made in response. She leaned closer, standing on tiptoes to reach up and kiss behind his ear. “Thank you for a memorable first time.”

He nodded jerkily. 

“I left you a souvenir,” she teased.

With that, she forced herself to turn and fumble for the doorknob. Feeling strangely like she was going to cry, she hesitated a moment before starting to turn it.

“Don’t look,” she said one more time, before pulling open the door.

She blinked rapidly against the sudden light, pretending it was the cause of her tears. Then she hurried from the room and made it to the loo before anyone else spotted her.

**

Fitz kept his word, mostly. He lost his inner battle and turned just as the door started to close. All he saw was her long hair and her heel as she disappeared out of sight. The door slammed shut. A moment later, he stepped forward, groping around until he found the light switch. He closed his eyes again, wincing against the light. Moments later, he risked opening them again. As he adjusted to the light, he looked down at himself. His softening dick looked rather pathetic, and he quickly reached down to remove the condom. He pulled some paper towel from the dispenser, wrapped it up, and stuck it into his pocket even as he pulled his trousers up, vowing to do laundry as soon as possible. He zipped and buttoned up, then turned to look around the small room and see if anything else needing cleaning. That’s when he spotted them.

There, on the floor next to his mask and a foot or so from his dropped wallet, were her knickers. 

He crouched and picked them up. The fabric was slippery smooth, and the center strip was still damp with her arousal. He raised it to his mouth, breathing in the scent and, feeling a little gross even as he did it, sticking his tongue out to taste it.

“Fuck,” he growled.

The sound of his voice through the distorter angered him for some reason, and he quickly undid the latch to remove it. He glared at it, as if it were solely to blame for the fucked-up emotions he was currently feeling and his inability to just _talk_ to a girl like a normal person.

Moments later, he shook his head, stood, and stuffed the knickers and his wallet in his other pocket. He walked out of the room, switching off the light. As he passed the girls’ loo, he struggled against the urge to go inside, or even wait after knocking to see who snuck out. He won both battles, walking on after rapping on the door three times.

The night air was cool when he made it outside. He took a deep breath, tilting his face back and enjoying it. 

Truthfully, she wasn’t who he really wanted, but it was, as she said, a memorable first time. He’d count it as a win, and would probably call the memory up from his spank bank quite frequently. 

_And_ he’d try harder with Simmons as soon as he got a chance.

**

Jemma had used the opportunity to pee, and then dampened some paper towel to dab at her inner thighs and crotch, thankful that there was not really any blood. And then she locked herself in one of the stalls and…waited. It took all of her willpower not to run out after him when he knocked on the bathroom door. She forced herself to wait, though, and put the mask back on for good measure when she left, too. She walked slowly back to her dorm, sighing in relief that she had no roommate to worry about. When she walked inside and could finally take the mask off, she immediately dropped it on the floor, near her backpack that still held her materials from chem lab. The contrast between the memento of the man who had awakened new sensations in her and the symbol of the man she could finally admit she had a substantial crush on made her laugh.

She glanced at the clock – it was early in England, but Ellie should be up. Jemma signed into the messaging system and sent an inquiring emoji.

_Hey babes, what’s up?_

Jemma smirked to herself as she typed a reply. _Well, about an hour or so ago, some guy’s penis._

_OMG_

_I lost my virginity!_

_O. M. G. I see you took my advice and ran with it. How was it?_

_Really good! Really hot!_

_WHO was it?_

_I don’t know._

_…what_

_;) heh heh heh_

_JEMMA ANNE SIMMONS TELL ME YOU USED PROTECTION_

_Duh, I would even if I DID know who it was. I don’t want to get knocked up like you._

_OK. Good. And…now what?_

_Now…I think I have to talk to Fitz. Because…I kept thinking about him._

_TOLD YOU SO_

Jemma laughed, signed off, stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed. A few moments later, she reached down, smirking as she remembered why exactly she didn’t have any knickers to remove. She touched herself carefully, cautiously. She was still a little sensitive, but not in a bad way. She closed her eyes, rubbing herself slowly as she remembered. She imagined meeting him again, recognizing him somehow, and taking their time to explore each other. Then, she allowed herself to imagine reaching up, pushing off his mask and revealing Fitz. Jemma sighed, shuddering with pleasure as she slid two fingers inside herself and continued to rub her thumb over her clit. She remembered the way he had touched her there, and she replaced it with the fantasy of Fitz’s fingers. She knew them well after staring at them so much in chem lab, and she had no doubt that he could – 

“Oh God,” Jemma whispered to the empty room. She brought her free hand to her breast, fondling it with the same rough squeezes he had in the dark room. In her imagination, Fitz then covered her nipple with his mouth, while the masked man continued to grope her and she humped her own hand with abandon until some dizzying combination of the three of them brought her off again.

She collapsed onto the mattress, panting. “Oh God,” she muttered again.

She really was going to have to talk to Fitz.

**

Fitz had slept in late, then wanked in the shower to the memory of the previous night combined, somewhat oddly, with the memory of Simmons chewing on her pen as she took notes in lecture. Now he was ignoring the whole thing as he worked on a design for some field equipment he had been talking over with Hall.

Kevin came home just then, interrupting his concentration, not to mention his determination not to think about his love life or lack thereof.

“How was it?” Kevin asked, flopping onto his bed. “Talk to any girls? Me, I told Janet I’d recognize her ass anywhere, and that actually worked, if you’ll believe it.”

Fitz smiled, somewhat humorlessly, then nodded. “I talked to a girl.”

“Yeah?! How’d it go?”

“Good,” Fitz replied. He couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face. “Great. Fantastic.”

“Uh-oh, sounds like you might have moved on from the pretty Dr. Simmons.”

“No, I – uh, I don’t know. It’s all very confusing.”

Kevin stared at him, as if waiting for more, and Fitz thought over his answer. Then he shook his head sharply.

“No, it’s not,” he stated, standing up. He patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys, then walked out of the room, ignoring as Kevin called after him curiously.

He hadn’t figured out what he wanted to say by the time he made it to Simmons’ dorm, but he knocked on her door anyway. He smiled when he realized he had used the same rhythm the night before to say goodbye to his mystery woman. 

The door swung open to reveal Simmons with wide eyes. When she registered who it was, she seemed to sag with some kind of emotion, then she laughed, seemingly at herself for some reason.

“Hi, Fitz. What’s up?”

“I – I wanted – I – ”

She raised an impatient eyebrow at him, the same expression that always terrified (and aroused) him in lab, and he chickened out.

“I wanted to check on something from the chem lab.”

She nodded and turned away. He followed her inside, hesitating for a moment before he decided to close the door. Maybe with a little privacy, he could find the courage to say what he came over to say. Whatever that was, exactly.

Simmons bent over to pick her backpack up off the floor. As she did, she tossed something out of the way. It landed on her bed. Fitz looked at it and immediately felt like he was going to have a stroke.

“What’s that?” he managed to ask, his voice sounding unnatural.

Simmons glanced at him, then at the mask. _The_ mask. He’d recognize it anywhere.

“Oh, I decided to go to the masquerade after all.”

Fitz breathed in and out several times, feeling dizzy. “Me too.”

“Did you have fun?” Simmons asked, rather cheerfully, even as she flipped through her binder for the most recent lab. She glanced at him when he didn’t – couldn’t – answer. Her expression became concerned. “Fitz, are you all right? Are you ill? Sit down.”

“No, I – ” Fitz laughed once, sharply. “I had a really, really, _really_ good time last night.”

“OK?”

He forced himself to look at her. She still seemed concerned, but also confused. 

“I wore…a steampunk gas mask.”

Simmons blinked as she stared at him, blanching. It felt like ages passed before she slowly lowered the binder onto her bed. She walked closer to him.

“Let me…” she whispered, trailing off. 

Fitz felt paralyzed as she brought her arms around his neck, immediately twisting her fingers into his curls. She then pressed her lips to his, slowly, as if she expected him to push her away. Like he ever would. He forced himself to breathe, then – shakily – he kissed her back.

He recognized her immediately, and he realized she must have accepted the truth as well, when she moaned and deepened the kiss. Then, they practically devoured each other. It wasn’t until a jarring sensation made Fitz notice that he’d backed her across the room to her desk that they broke apart. They didn’t separate far though. Simmons’ fingers pressed into his cheek as they rested their foreheads against each other and their breaths mingled. And then, with a whimper, Simmons tilted her head up in an attempt to kiss him again.

“Wait,” Fitz said, kicking himself as he held her back. “What about the other guy?”

Her immediate burst of laughter made Fitz smile too, despite himself.

“Fitz, you _are_ the other guy.”

“Oh,” he murmured. Then it sunk in. “Wait, what? Really?”

“Yes!” she practically shouted, still laughing. 

“I’ve been trying to think of something to say that would impress you for months,” he blurted. 

She laughed even harder, resting her head against his chest. He grinned, folding his arms around her in a hug that was almost more friendly than seductive. But soon, she straightened and started kissing him again, and things didn’t seem quite so funny. She pushed at his chest, forcing him back from the desk and in the direction of the bed. He stumbled a bit when his legs hit the mattress, and he sat down fast, lowering to his back as she climbed up and straddled him. 

“Do you have a condom?” she asked, the question sounding exponentially sexier in her own voice than it did when she spoke through the distorter. 

Nonetheless, his head fell back onto the bed with a dejected bounce. “No.”

“No?!”

“Well, I didn’t think this was gonna happen, did I? Damn it.”

With something between a groan of despair and a giggle, Simmons fell forward. She buried her head on his chest, and Fitz once again wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He rather unsuccessfully tried to will his dick into submission.

“How about,” he murmured, pausing to lick his lips, “I take you out for dinner, and we stop at the store on the way back?”

“I think that’s the most words you’ve ever said to me in one go, Leopold Fitz.”

“I should have known it was you when you said you liked exams," he shot back. 

She pinched his side, then smoothed her palm along his torso. “I’m definitely impressed.”

“Do you want to go out with me or not?”

She pushed up to a seating position again, grinning widely at him. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> See my tumblr for pictures that inspired my mental images for their masks:  
> http://mech-bull.tumblr.com/post/181185547863/these-were-the-images-i-used-for-reference-for-the


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